Nothing more than a tool
by Mistercreationist
Summary: (A rather short fic. Made for my absolutely favorite pairing in League, Talon/Yasuo. There's not enough fanfiction about them.) Yasuo and Talon had been... well, in a situation for years now. A rather secret agreement of sorts. Talon wants to know more about the wanderer, and Yasuo doesn't seem too interested in obliging.


It's been so long since they've started out together, no- this isn't being _together_, it's simply getting pressure off their backs, releasing tensions with their bodies; more specifically, Talon's. There was no emotion in their interactions. If anything, there was hatred; animalistic needs and anger.

_Nails scraped, teeth grazed across sensitive skin. A growl left Yasuo's throat in a most controlling manner, pulling on Talon's hair roughly, causing the Noxian to breathe out a moan. _

It was always like this, the Samurai was always in control, always anything but gentle to the assassin that writhed beneath him. He hated Noxians, and he always told himself that Talon was the one he hated most. Maybe that was just an excuse- some means of giving himself a reason to treat the young man the way he does. Talon never seemed to protest the way Yasuo treated him. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it more than anything.

_Two strong hands guided Talon downward to the Samurai's hips, already understanding what he was needing to do. He complied, of course, his tongue darting out and licking along that-_

_Another moan._

Their moments together like this were always short, Yasuo never staying longer than necessary, usually leaving Talon to deal with his own needs. All the Samurai seemed to care about was his own personal gain. They never kissed, never held each other. When Yasuo was there, he made it quick and easy, at least for himself. Talon learned not to object in the way he was teased- in the way he was used. After all, he was nothing more than a weapon in the eyes of Noxus, he was accustomed to being treated like he was something to be thrown away. It didn't bother him in the slightest, he'd always known his place. But he didn't expect Yasuo to throw him away. Though his body was abused, he felt deep inside that the Samurai was a pathetic, lonely man, needing nothing more than someone by his side.

_The assassin's tongue swirled, Yasuo gritting his teeth in an attempt to hold back even more noise than he was already making. Talon's lips were like heaven to him, that is, anywhere away from his own._

But Yasuo would never voluntarily admit to something like that. He was too prideful to do so. Many people knew of the Wanderer's story, but none of them truly knew how exactly he felt, what exactly he's been through. Talon knew there was more to know about the Samurai that what was let on. And perhaps the assassin's own prideful nature made him desire that information. But that never was his goal intentionally.

_Eventually, the Samurai felt his release, his fingers knotting in Talon's hair. A low, soft grunt was the only thing that left his throat afterwards, Yasuo's hips rocking steadily as he came down from his high._

Talon had a hit on Yasuo years ago, the one assassination he never could go through with. Something about the sad wanderer made Talon pity him, the way the Ronin challenged him; spewing insult after insult just for the assassin's association with Noxus. Just by watching Yasuo and the man's actions, he could easily tell how pathetic they were. It was depressing, yet Yasuo was the only man to ever successfully fight Talon off. So something about such a depressed man ...drew Talon to him.

_The Samurai came to his feet, tucking himself back into his undergarments and tying his belt back around his waist. He avoided eye contact with the Noxian, who was obviously still very in the mood that was swimming through the air moments ago. _

Yasuo could've easily killed Talon then, too. But he didn't, leaving the prideful assassin to sulk in their loss. It was a rather valiant move, because Talon would have been able to turn the tide and drag his blade across the Samurai's throat with such ease at that point. But he didn't. Something held him back.

What held him back, then?

_Talon made no sound, moving to sit up as he watched the other man go about their usual routine. He got used to this a long time ago, but every time it always left a heavy feeling in his chest. A soft sigh left Yasuo, tugging on the rest of his clothing and armor. He made his way over to the door, hand lingering on the doorknob longer than usual. Noticing this, the assassin's brow raised in question, not verbally addressing it. _

_Yasuo turned his head to look toward the Noxian, then. His expression was uncertain, lips slightly agape as if he wanted to say something, but the words couldn't quite come out. Talon wanted to say something in return as well, his body rising in anticipation._

_But the Ronin hesitated, turning back to face the door with a tense face. Turning the knob, he swung the door open, taking a few steps before stopping short. He looked back again, his gaze catching Talon's._

"Thank you, Talon …

For everything."

_He left the room once more._


End file.
